Katniss' Journal
by thecakemasterofpanem
Summary: before she was in the games
1. Chapter 1

May 3, 2217

Maybe it seems wrong, but writing somehow makes me feel better. It seems pathetic for someone as hard core as me, but something about it just feels good, like my thoughts are free to flow out of my pencil. I didn't give the idea of having a journal much thought, because it seemed to be one of those things that I can't put time into. Now I've figured out that it works. It sounds too stupid to call it a diary, and that's simply because it's girly. Believe me, I'm no where close to girly. I have chosen to start writing because my other ways of refuge aren't working as well anymore.

The lake and the woods are peaceful, but there are too many memories that flood back. I would sing, but I'm afraid someone would hear me. I can't talk to anyone because I'm bad at making friends and my family wouldn't understand.

Before I get into extreme detail, I should probably introduce myself. My name is Katniss Everdeen. I'm thirteen years old, almost fourteen. The place I come from determined the way I am now. I live in the country of Panem, a place the emerged from somewhere called the United States of America after it fell.

As far as I know, America wasn't a terrible place. There just happened to be an overwhelming amount of problems at one time that threw everything off balance. The continent crumbled for a while, and then some of the remaining people started to rebuild. They were aiming to go for what there was before, but the majority thought the old government wasn't strong enough, so there became only the president and nothing more. The people were still a big part of government, but eventually the later leaders started taking power away from the population. The people rebelled and the Dark Days began. Coriolanus Snow stepped in and put everything at a stand-still after he blew up District 13. He's been dictating Panem ever since. I can't help but wonder how old he is.

Anyway, it's a surprise that I even got this journal, because people who live in my condition can't afford anything. That's why most of us starve to death before we reach age thirty. This is basically a long story that I don't know how to begin. I suppose I should start with the outline.

The country was made up of thirteen districts, and as I said before, one blew up. Now there are twelve, and each district is poorer than the one before it. The Capitol is all luxury and no work, along with most of District 1. District 12 is the poorest,and what is probably predictable is that it's where I live.

My house is at the edge of the District, not many yards away from the fence. This particular spot is know as the Seam. Everyone here has the same look about them, except my mother and sister. The house is just big enough to fit us in it.

The reason my family doesn't have the look of the Seam is because my mother didn't live here when she was young. She lived with the merchants and worked as an apothecary. My sister, Primrose, simply inherited my mother's looks. We live here because my mom fell in love with my dad, who lived in the Seam. He was a coal miner, just like every guy over eighteen.

Unfortuately, he died in a mine explosion last year. Mom dropped into a deep depression and still hasn't come out of it. The oldest kids take over after that, and I live up to my position, or at least try to. I go into the woods just outside the fence and practice hunting. That's the only reason my family is still alive.

I haven't mastered my bow yet, because the ones my father made for me are still kind of big. Even though it's a little challenging, I can manage to shoot and entrap wild game, thanks to the days spent in the woods with Dad. I can somehow feel him in the nature of everything, and it helps me stay calm. I've run into a few snares that are too complicated to be mine, so I keep my eye out for anyone I don't know.

Back to the concept of writing, my mother randomly felt pleasant for a day and went into town. She was there for at least seven hours, and when she was back, the blank look returned to her face as she set this note book before me. I've decided to write about anything I feel the need to hold on to, starting now.

- Katniss


	2. Chapter 2

May 10, 2217

Before I left to practice shooting and go hunting, Prim wanted me to help her get Mom out of bed. I told her it was pointless, but she kept trying. When I left, she was placing flowers in Mom's hair. I try not to think that in three years, Prim will have her name in the drawing at the Reaping.

The Reaping is the opening ceremony for the Hunger Games. Each year, one girl and boy between the ages of 12 and 18 are chosen to fight to the death on live television with 22 other kids.

Everyone in the districts are forced to watch, and the sad thing is that Capitol citizens see it only as entertainment.

My name has been placed in the drawing sixteen times, 13 for my age and three more for the number of people in my family. Putting my name in extra times will get me tesserae, a small supply of grain and oil. I'm making sure that Prim won't go for tesserae.

Of course, all of this was planned out by President Snow. He wants to remind us that if we rebel again, he'll blow all of us up.

The next Reaping is in two weeks.

- Katniss


	3. Chapter 3

May 14, 2217

I went into the woods and gathered lots of herbs and fruit. I managed to shoot a squirrel and kill it after four arrows.

As I was walking back to the fence, I ran into an excellent snare that had a rabbit dangling from a tree. I noticed more of them a few yards away.

I didn't want to touch it at first, but I wanted to see how they worked. My snares don't seem to catch anything. I was about to poke the rabbit when a voice said,

"Stealing is punishable by death, or don't you know that?"

I jumped when he spoke and backed away, then turned my gaze to the stranger.

But then I realized, he wasn't a complete stranger. T had seen him when I was placed as the kid to take care of the family. He's another oldest child who's father died with my dad in the mine explosion.

I must have been taking a while, because he asked me,

"What's your name?" He then went to the snare and released the rabbit, hooking it to his belt where many more hung. I mumbled,

"Katniss."

"Well, Catnip, what interest do you have in my snares?"

I became annoyed that he thought that I'm cat food. Louder, with a hint of anger, I spoke my name again, and then, "My snares never catch anything."

He registeres amusement, and that made me even more upset.

He must be from the Seam, because he had the same straight dark hair and grey eyes as I do. He pointed to my bow and asked, "Can I see that?"

I hesitated, and then figured he could possibly be a good hunting partner, if the idea ever came across. I handed him the bow and said,

"Just remember, stealing is punishable by death."

He smiled and told me his name was Gale.

- Katniss


End file.
